The Language of Love

by Saunders, Jean

  “There’s only one problem,” she said evenly. He wasn’t having it all his own way. “You forget I’m a working girl, and I must check with Gerrit first that we’ve no function to deal with on Saturday –”

  “All taken care of.” Pieter smiled. “I’ve already checked. Anyway, since Gerrit and his girls will be helping on the float, he could hardly object to my taking you away, could he?”

  He really was the limit, Annette fumed. He was doing it again. She was used to organizing her own life, and Pieter Van Ness had no right to storm right into it and think he could take over. She caught his glance, and knew he was waiting for her to react. Suddenly she remembered Helga, and guessed the other girl would be just as annoyed to know Annette and Pieter would be spending the whole day together as pseudo-tourists! Instead of sparking with annoyance as he might have expected, Annette treated him to an especially dazzling smile, and she was perfectly aware of the effect it had on him.

  “Then I’ll look forward to it,” she said sweetly. She saw Elena glance quickly at her and then at her brother, as if only just aware of the undercurrents flowing beneath the surface between them. Annette could forgive her. What soon-to-be-married girl wasted her emotions on worrying about another couple, unless they were actively fighting? And nothing like that must happen, Annette vowed. For Elena’s sake, she and Pieter must keep up a serene appearance. Once the wedding was over, she would quietly return to London.

  For some reason, the thought only made her feel bleak inside, and it was something she wouldn’t think about. There was too much here to occupy her thoughts anyway.

  Chapter Nine

  Saturday was one of those early March days that belied the notion of cold winds and the remnants of winter. It was springlike, the sky a cloudless blue and a sudden bursting of blossom on the trees. Annette dressed in a soft lime-green skirt and navy velour sweater and recklessly chose navy sandals for her feet. She always felt happier when March arrived, and the sadness of February’s memories was behind her. This year she felt even more uplifted, with new interests and places, and she wouldn’t include Pieter in her assessment!

  He was already waiting for her in the sports car outside the front door, and it was just before ten o’clock when they were speeding through the northern part of Amsterdam, where the ever-present cyclists were jangling their bells and weaving in and out of the traffic. Holland was so flat it was a cyclist’s paradise, and in a very short while they too were driving through the flat green countryside, through small villages and across narrow bridges, and everywhere were the narrow canals alongside the roads that were part of the Dutch engineering marvel.

  When she commented on the fact, Pieter smiled at her. “We have a saying, Annette. God created the world, but the Dutch created the Netherlands! The name ‘Netherlands’ means literally below sea level, and much of our country would be one vast lake if it were not for those far-seeing engineers who saw the potential here. It was they who created the polder, which is the reclaimed land from the sea. Holland is a network of manmade dikes and canals, and the picturesque windmills the tourists flock to see were once used to pump out the water. Most of the windmills are only tourist attractions now, but for nearly forty years they’ve been recognized as a national monument, and rightly so, in my opinion, since they’re part of our history.”

  “I’m very impressed. I must admit I merely thought of them as picturesque objects.”

  “It always pays to look beneath the surface to discover the real value of everything,” he agreed, and she couldn’t be sure whether he meant his words to have a double meaning or not. But she gave up wondering when they drove through a road of modern houses to emerge on an old cobbled street that ended at the water’s edge. Pieter turned left to drive along the waterfront, crowded with tiny shops, turning toward the harbor, where there was a parking lot. To the right of them was a vast sea, where fishing boats bobbed on the swell, each stamped with the name of Volendam.

  Annette looked around delightedly. “You didn’t tell me it was a fishing village,” she exclaimed. “I assumed it was a sleepy little place in the country, with farms and cows.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t warn you, then, even though it never occurred to me. It was worth it to see your eyes glow, darling. They’re the most incredible blue this morning, and it’s good to see you happy.”

  She felt his hand on hers for a moment, and she couldn’t deny it: she was happy. This was a perfect morning, and she was here with a man whose charisma she couldn’t disclaim, in a place so full of charm it set her tingling. Pieter leaned across and kissed her, and it was all part of the morning, and the aura of the coming of spring, and she found herself kissing him back. She’d meant it to be purely platonic, but he pulled her closer in the circle of his arms. Automatically she began to struggle, and Pieter immediately let her go, though his strong fingers still caressed her cheek.

  “You promised –’’ she began, feeling ridiculously like a child protesting at some indiscretion, and annoyed with herself because of it.

  He gave a soft laugh. “I promised not to make love to you again, because of your ridiculous threat of leaving Elena in the lurch, my darling. But it doesn’t alter the fact that I still want you, nor that I intend to make sure you know it! And after the wedding –”

  “After the wedding, I’ll be going back to England.” Her voice was too shrill, too quick, and she might have known Pieter wasn’t a man to accept her terms so willingly. It wasn’t in the nature of a man whose ancestors had pushed back the sea and created a land of flowers out of nothing. She knew she wouldn’t have wanted him to do otherwise. She wriggled out of his arms and turned away before her face betrayed her.

  “We’re here on business, Pieter,” she said. “And if you want my suggestions for your float, hadn’t we better get started?”

  “Of course.” He spoke quickly, with the ghost of a smile in his voice, and she was quite sure he knew exactly how she was feeling.

  As she got out of the car and breathed in the tangy salt air, she applied all her energies to the task at hand.

  It was early in the season for tourists, though there was already a sprinkling of local people dressed in national costume. From the harbor Annette could see the tall men in their somber baggy black trousers, buttoned at the waist by two large gilt buttons to the equally baggy black tunics, with blue-and-white vertically striped shirts that matched the skirts of their womenfolk.

  She remembered Pieter’s remark that Volendam girls were reputedly the prettiest in Holland, and wouldn’t let the fact throw her, although it appeared to be true as they walked along the cobbled waterfront and met the smiling girls. Most of the girls eyed the attractive man who looked at them so appreciatively, and ignored the brown-haired girl writing busily in a notebook and pausing to sit now and then to make a rough sketch as an idea struck her.

  They had lunch in a tiny cafe once owned by a fishing family, where old mementos adorned the walls, along with old prints and photos of the fishing village. And then it was out into the sunlight again, to laze on a wooden seat and watch the boats going out to sea, with the sunlight dancing like diamond points on the water.

  “Well...?” Pieter’s arm was casually around her shoulder. They looked like any other tourist couple, Annette thought. Anyone seeing their heads so close could be forgiven for thinking they were in love. “Has that famous ‘Annette’ inspiration hit you yet?”

  “I’m working on it. I’d thought of attempting a copy of the costume as you said, but somehow it doesn’t jell in my mind. One wouldn’t be enough, and the work involved would make the whole scheme impractical.”

  “We could always have more real girls, and fewer flowers.” He had turned to smile at several giggling girls walking home on their lunch break. They gabbled something in Dutch that Annette couldn’t understand, but it was obviously to Pieter’s amusement. The ridiculous stab of jealousy was there again, and she wondered suspiciously if he was paying special attention to the Volenda
m girls just to annoy her!

  “I was thinking of fewer girls and more flowers.” She tried not to sound prim, turning her eyes toward the sea, where the boats droned in unison now, smooth and rhythmic. Suddenly she felt a quickening of her breath and the rush of adrenaline that always came with a creative idea, and she began to sketch rapidly. It was so obvious, she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it immediately.

  “The float must represent a fishing boat, Pieter! Perhaps we could hire one and its trailer, and deck it in flowers to match the girls’ costumes — the striped blue-and-white tulips, the blue-black ones above, and so on. Through the middle of the stripes I’d like a splash of red color to spell out the name ‘Volendam,’ and instead of older girls, it would be more attractive to have small girls wearing the costumes – Gerda and Lise! Not so many distractions from the flowers, yet with an added charm. What do you think?”

  Let him think it was jealousy if he wanted to, but one look at her glowing face would show him that she was fired with the energy of the idea. It caught Pieter’s imagination at once.

  “Terrific!” he echoed. “We’ll make inquiries right now, darling. You’re incredible, just as Elena always said you were. Why did you wait so long to come into my life?”

  Annette laughed, too elated to let his flattery annoy her. Why should it? They were in this together, and she needed his enthusiasm. He hugged her to him, and this time she was hugging him back in the exhilaration of the moment. The kiss they shared was the sealing of a bargain, but still heady for all that.

  By the time they drove back to Amsterdam late in the afternoon, Annette was ready to agree with Elena that Pieter was a man who got what he wanted. She watched his charm at work as he persuaded the owner of an old fishing boat to hire it out to him for a period of a few weeks, complete with trailer. Hearing the sum Pieter offered, she wasn’t altogether surprised the fisherman seemed happy with the arrangement, though!

  The drive back to the city was exhilarating. They shared a common interest, and Annette was as determined as Pieter to make it a success.

  “I’ve never tackled anything like this before,” she told him, “so I’m as new to the game as you are.”

  “I have every confidence in your work, darling. Just say what you want, and it’ll be delivered. And I’ve no intention of being merely the financial backer in all this. I want to be involved all the way.”

  Annette glanced at him suspiciously, but after all, why shouldn’t he? In his position he could give as much time as he liked to outside interests. From the sudden pressure of his hand on her knee, Annette knew that included her. But there was too much excitement inside her to feel apprehensive at the closeness the project promised, or to consider that there was a certain satisfaction in the thought too.

  “We have a month until the festival,” she said hurriedly. “I shall want to make sketches of the best way of going about it, but I think my first suggestion will stand, as long as we can have Gerda and Lise as our flower girls. Do you think their parents will agree?” “I’m sure they will,” Pieter said with a smile. “It will be good for them to get to know you before the wedding, too. We’ll phone them tonight and make the arrangements.”

  Annette thought how pleasant it was that such details were all being done for her. Usually she worked out just how she would approach each task, but Pieter was a man used to smoothing the way, and all she had to concentrate on was the flower float. She had no doubt whatsoever that what Pieter wanted, Pieter would get. If it made her tingle a little, it also gave her tremendous confidence in him. As long as Pieter was in control, nothing would go wrong.

  She was studying his strong profile as if mesmerized when he turned to glance at her, and she felt herself blushing at the intimacy of his look. They were driving through flat straight country, and this time his hand reached for and found her own, his thumb caressing her skin and reminding her instantly of the night in his hotel suite, when he’d whispered words of love against the soft curves of her breasts, and she’d believed them, because she’d wanted to so badly.

  “You’d better keep your eyes on the road, Pieter,” she mumbled.

  “I’d rather keep my eyes on you,” he said gravely, “but you’re probably right, darling. And at least I know you’re not going to run away from me now that you’ve got that special light of excitement in your face. It’s almost as exciting to me as holding you in my arms.”

  She ignored his last words. “Why should you think I was going to run away from you?”

  “You’ve been running away from reality ever since your husband died.” He was watching the road again, but his hand still held hers, and he must have been aware of the tension in hers. “How many men have been treated to the big freeze as soon as they tried to get close to you, Annette?”

  “You make it sound as if there have been dozens,” she said angrily.

  “As long as I’m the one who finally succeeds, I wouldn’t care if there had been,” he said calmly. “Though I doubt it! Your prickles must have come out long before any of them got to second base!”

  She extricated her fingers from his, knowing how he’d gone far beyond that! He was so sure of her – as if he thought he only had to bide his time, and she’d be his for the taking – but he had already proved his power. She stared straight ahead, refusing to be baited any further and determinedly talking only about the festival project, but his words remained in her head long after they’d been said.

  The next four weeks passed so quickly it was almost frightening. Elena was busy on her own wedding preparations, and glad that Annette’s time was so occupied. She and Pieter pored over sketches and designs, and inevitably the project was bringing a closeness to them that was bittersweet to Annette. They worked well together, and it was good to feel she was here in Amsterdam for a purpose, but she knew now that Pieter could mean a very great deal to her, and she had too much pride to ask him exactly how much Helga Jansen meant to him. After Elena’s revelations, she was afraid to ask. For the time being it was enough that they worked well together.

  A week before the date of the festival, everything was in readiness. The fishing boat and trailer were in the yard behind Gerrit’s shop, awaiting decoration a few hours before the parade. It would be covered on the outside with fine chicken wire, through which the flowers would be pushed into the special foam to hold them and keep them moist for the duration of the parade. It all had to be done quickly, within hours of the parade, but with Pieter’s administration, Annette knew the flowers would be delivered at dawn on the day, and Gerrit’s girls would be willing and eager to be up early to help her. They knew exactly what had to be done, and it would be constructed with mathematical precision, with the clay already color-washed in the correct background for the flowers. Nothing would go wrong.

  As for Gerda and Lise, their excitement gave them added color in their cheeks as they were dressed in the picturesque Volendam costumes. They stayed at the Van Ness house the night before, with Nels and their parents, and insisted on Annette and Pieter tucking them into bed that night.

  “Only if you promise to go to sleep immediately.” Pieter grinned as he chased them up the curving staircase. “Annette and I have things to talk about.”

  The little girls dived into the double bed that enveloped them, and Pieter put his arm around Annette’s shoulder as they stood by the bed. The little girls giggled as they watched.

  “Uncle Pieter loves Annette.” Gerda’s voice was muffled by the bedspread.

  “Can we be flower girls at your wedding too?” Lise was just as cheeky, with a great scuffling of arms and legs from beneath the sheets.

  Pieter leaned over and tickled the mound of their small bodies. “She hasn’t said she’ll marry me yet,” he said lightly. “But I promise you’ll have first chance when she does.”

  It was all for the children’s benefit, of course, and he certainly hadn’t mentioned anything about marriage. But all the same, Annette’s heart gave a sudden leap at his reply
, until he spoiled it, his voice still teasing: “I’m not sure about marrying anybody if it means having two little wrigglers like you, though. I think it’s safer to stay a bachelor. And before you start asking what that is and keep us up here another half-hour, you’d better go to sleep or you won’t be able to get up in time for the parade tomorrow. Good night!”

  He kissed them both firmly, and then Annette did the same. Their arms were soft around her neck as she hugged them both. How sweet it would be to have this little chore every night, she mused. She said good night quickly, and followed Pieter out of the room, only to be pinned by him as soon as they closed the door. His arms were around her, and her heart suddenly pounded at the look in his eyes.

  “You’re good with children, Annette,” he said softly. “It’s a crying shame you don’t have any of your own. Those two bring out all your motherly instincts. Does a career compensate for all that?”

  “I never pretended it was a substitute.” Her voice was breathless, because in the beginning that was exactly what it had been. She had thrown all her energies and enthusiasm into her new career, though once she had expected to use her energy caring for Tony and the children they’d have. A sudden nostalgia for all the things that might have been swept through her, and she almost hated Pieter for invoking it so vividly. No other man had ever probed so deeply into her privacy as he did. No one else had ever exposed the raw grief she’d successfully overcome all these years. In some ways he was only making her miss Tony more, she thought painfully.